Page 78 of My Big, Fat, Fake Billionaire Wedding

“I said, is itallfiction?”

Oh my god. He did say it.

I swallow. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

We turn slowly, and I become intensely aware of every point of contact between us. His hand at my back, my fingers curled around his, my chest occasionally brushing against his with each step.

He’s only acting this way because he wants to keep up the pretense. He’s going to go cold on me again as soon as we’re alone. I’m not stepping into the trap.

“The Riverside project,” I say, changing the subject to safer ground. “Did you always intend to give me a chance with it, or was that a spontaneous decision?”

“Let’s say I was curious what you’d do with it.” His gaze is steady. “You exceeded every expectation.”

Pride blooms warm in my chest. “I’m full of surprises.”

“That you are.” His eyes drop briefly to my lips before returning to meet mine. “Dancing skills included.”

“Three years of mandatory ballroom lessons during high school,” I explain. “My mother’s futile attempt to make me more ladylike.”

“Not entirely futile.”

His compliment catches me off guard, and I feel heat rising to my cheeks. We’re moving closer together, the space between us almost nonexistent now.

This doesn’t feel like pretending anymore.

The thought jolts through me, sharp and unsettling. I’m not supposed to enjoy being in his arms. I’m not supposed to notice how perfectly we fit together, how naturally we move as one. I’m definitely notsupposed to wonder what would happen if I leaned up those few inches and pressed my lips to his. We’re in public after all. We’re supposed to have some PDA. A little kiss wouldn’t hurt...

Oh, but it would. Hurt badly.

Section 5, paragraph 3: No emotional involvement.

“You look flushed,” he murmurs. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” I manage. “Just warm.”

“We can step outside for some air.”

Before I can answer Jonas appears beside us, apologizing for the interruption. “I need to borrow Gideon for five minutes. Blackwell’s camp just made an announcement.”

The spell breaks instantly. Gideon’s expression hardens, and he nods. “Excuse me,” he tells me. “This shouldn’t take long.”

As they walk away, I stand alone at the edge of the dance floor, my skin still tingling where his hands had been. Sarah offers me another glass of champagne, which I gratefully accept.

“You two are absolutely perfect together,” she gushes. “The way he looks at you... Jonas never believed Gideon would settle down, you know. But seeing you together, it makes perfect sense.”

I smile and nod, taking a long sip of my drink, unsure how to respond. Because the terrifying truth is starting to sink in: I’m no longer sure how much of this is an act.

I’m in trouble. Real, serious trouble.

The champagne bubbles tickle my nose, but they can’t drown out the vague realization forming in my mind: I could be starting to fall for my fake husband.

26

Gideon

“Blackwell’s acquiring the old Hartman warehouses,” Jonas says as soon as we’re in the study, away from the party guests. “They announced it thirty minutes ago.”

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